


In The Closet

by crammit



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fingerfucking, Grinding, Humor, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crammit/pseuds/crammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn decides to surprise Santana and Brittany with a visit but gets a different kind of surprise when Rachel insists on tagging along.  **Part of the Bowery Verse**</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Closet

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Glee and its characters do not belong to me. I'm only borrowing them. But I promise to put them right back where I found them.
> 
> A/N: This is actually the first Faberry fic I've ever written and I will freely admit to being nervous to dip my toe in the Faberry waters. I can only hope I do them some sort of justice. :-)
> 
> A/N: This is an offshoot of my Bowery Verse (which right now just consists of Perfect and Merry Christmas) in that it focuses on Faberry rather than Brittana as all of my other stories have.
> 
> A/N: For the few of you that have asked, my Bowery Verse is the prequel to my Sweetest Verse.
> 
> A/N: As always, thanks very much for reading. Reviews are always appreciated. :-)

“We should just let them know we’re here.”

“No, shhh.”

Turning her head, Rachel makes out a hint of Quinn’s features from the sunlight filtering under the door, not needing full light to know there is a small scowl on Quinn’s face. “Honestly Quinn, this is silly. I am not standing in this closet just so you can surprise Santana.”

“You didn’t have to come with me. Brittany said she would have left a key for me and I told you I could swing by and see you later.”

“Nonsense. There were at least two connecting trains before you could get to here.”

Pushing her foot against what she thinks is a shoe box, Quinn barely holds back an annoyed sound as she moves a few inches away from Rachel, their shared body heat in such a small space making her glad she chose to wear a sundress today.   “And?”

“And…I didn’t want you to get lost as you’ve never been here before.”

Quinn relaxes her shoulders slightly at the tone of Rachel’s voice, conceding her point with a small smile, finally meeting Rachel’s eyes in the dim light as she counters Rachel’s statement. “That’s sweet, Rachel. But I’m not a child. I’m pretty sure I could have found my way here just fine.”

“Be that as it may, it just seemed silly to let you travel by yourself when I had a free afternoon off and…”

“Shhhhhh.”

“Why are you…”

“I think I hear something.”

They both turn and look towards the closet door, the sudden tension in Quinn’s body pulling tighter as the back of Rachel’s hand brushes across the top of her wrist. A few seconds pass and when the silence continues, Quinn clears her throat, heat building on the back of her neck as she senses Rachel turning towards her. The energy between them shifts so quickly that Quinn doesn’t have time to put her defenses up, her brain scrambling to interject something benign into the loaded silence before Rachel can speak but she gets as far as opening her mouth before Rachel is talking.

“Quinn, now that we’re here…”

A nervous laugh escapes Quinn’s mouth before she can stop it, the formality of the way Rachel starts her sentence makes something tingle along Quinn’s spine and she tries to shift away from Rachel, rolling her eyes as she overcompensates, her balance tipping slightly before Rachel reaches out for her wrist. She can feel her blood pounding in her ears and tries to pull her hand back, hoping that Rachel missed the way her pulse is no doubt throbbing beneath her fingertips.

Rachel wants to let go of Quinn’s wrist, understanding that this conversation would be better had without one of them touching the other but she can feel the hummingbird beat of the pulse beneath her fingers and despite her brain screaming at her to let go, her hand remains holding onto Quinn’s wrist. The relative darkness gives her courage that time and distance couldn’t give her and the irony of having the courage now that Quinn is only a foot from her isn’t lost on Rachel. “I wanted to talk about last month.”

Reflex puts a scoffing tone in Quinn’s voice and even she cringes internally at the way she sounds as she answers Rachel. “Of course you do. When _don’t_ you want to talk something to death?”

Stubbornness keeps Rachel from recoiling at Quinn’s words, her fingers tightening on Quinn’s wrist once more as Quinn tries to pull back. Sliding her fingers into the pocket of her short cargo shorts, Rachel tries to relax her body, just as determined to have this conversation as she is in ignoring the warning bells clamoring in her head to just let it go. “I was grateful that you invited me to come see your poetry reading. It was nice getting to meet some of your classmates.”

Closing her eyes, Quinn can’t help but laugh again, the sound strained as she interrupts Rachel once more. “ _That’s_ where you’re starting this conversation?”

“I thought you would appreciate me building up to the part where you fucked me all over your dorm room before I left the next morning but perhaps I should have just started with that.”

The boldness of Rachel’s words stuns both of them and Quinn’s hand finally slips from Rachel’s loosened grasp. As Rachel self-consciously slips her hand into her other pocket, Quinn’s breathing picks up, memories of that night flashing through her brain like hot sparks and her chest flushes warm as it occurs to her that Rachel might be having the same thoughts. She doesn’t know how to respond to Rachel’s outburst, despite the hours and days and weeks she’s spent replaying that night over and over in her mind.

Daydreaming while walking to classes about the small shocked noise that Rachel made when Quinn first pushed her against the door and kissed her, the undercurrent between them finally washing over Quinn as Rachel had brushed by a little too close when they were walking into Quinn’s dorm room. Letting her mind wander during important lectures to think about the way Rachel’s nails felt digging into her shoulders as Quinn knelt in front of her with Rachel arched back across her desk. Staring blankly at her textbooks in the library as her mind conjured image after image of Rachel’s hand between her legs as they both watched, Quinn’s hushed and urgent instructions causing her ears to fill with Rachel’s answering moans in memory as it did that night. Looking up at the dark ceiling at night as her hand crept below her sleeping shorts, touching herself to the memory of Rachel’s first tentative strokes of her tongue between Quinn’s legs and the way they shifted into urgent, desperate motions as Quinn clutched at the duvet cover.

Her dress feels like it’s sticking to her overheated skin and she can feel a dampness between her thighs that has nothing to do with the heat that’s been building in the closet since the door was shut a good twenty minutes ago. Quinn knows that whatever discussion Rachel wants to have is not one that should be happening when they are this close to each other, not with the thoughts burning through her mind right now. The fact that neither Quinn nor Rachel have brought it up in the few times they’ve talked since everything happened makes Quinn think they might never be ready to have this discussion. Deciding that the best way to navigate the minefield that Rachel just placed at their feet is to minimize what happened, Quinn forces her body to relax, reaching up to settle her hair behind her shoulders as casually as possible, looking into the darkness over Rachel’s shoulder as she finally replies to her.

“We had a lot of wine at the after party and…we…we were drunk, Rachel. Okay? It happens sometimes between friends.”

Quinn thinks she hears a hurt sound come from Rachel but if it was there, it’s covered quickly by the words that follow. “Like you and Santana?”

There’s a heavy pause in the air, Rachel’s accelerated breathing made louder by Quinn’s held breath. Rubbing her hands across her face Quinn’s voice is muffled behind her fingers as she sighs out Rachel’s name on an irritated breath, dropping her hands to meet Rachel’s gaze. The anxiety over Rachel knowing about that particular escapade layers itself over the tension in their current discussion and Quinn’s voice is silenced by the look in Rachel’s eyes.

“What? You and she are friends, are you not?”

“Yes, but…”

“But what? You and I are friends, too. We _are_ friends, right Quinn?”

Quinn grits out her answer between her teeth, curling her fingers into a fist as a trickle of sweat slides across her lower back. “Yes.”

The butterflies in Rachel’s stomach have turned into albatrosses, battering her insides with nervous wings, pulling at her confidence as she breathes through the feeling, years of performing propping her up on instinct as she finally dislodges the words she’s been dying to speak.

“Okay. Tell me that everything that happened that night was just a thing that happened _between friends_ and I’ll drop it. I won’t mention it again and we can just chalk it up to another convoluted chapter in the story that is our friendship.”

Quinn knows that Rachel hasn’t moved but she can suddenly feel Rachel against her, the phantom memory of pressing Rachel against the door of her dorm room flaring across her skin like a tangible heat, and panic pushes an edge into Quinn’s voice as she pointedly turns her head, keeping her eyes fixed on the door in front of them. “You should just drop it anyway.”

“Just answer me, Quinn.”

It’s the softness of Rachel’s voice that pushes Quinn over from the panic ledge she had been standing on into a free fall, her thoughts and feelings landing hard into the realization that having this conversation alone with Rachel in this enclosed space is definitely not the best idea right now. The harmless scent of Brittany and Santana’s hall closet seems to be infused with the smell of her and Rachel’s perfumes, the rational part of Quinn’s brain understanding that nerves are making the smell sharper. It’s the darker part of herself, the part that remembers the way that Rachel’s perfume smelled on her pillow in the morning after…everything, that pushes Quinn into deflecting Rachel’s request once more.

“Wait, I think I hear something.”

Quinn doesn’t need to look at Rachel to know that she just rolled her eyes, Rachel’s hands slipping from her pockets to drop heavily against her thighs as she keeps her eyes trained on Quinn. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, listen. I think Brittany and Santana are back.”

Indulging Quinn for a half second, Rachel listens for a moment but the only sounds she can hear are the faint sounds of traffic outside and her irritation dips slightly into anger. “Quinn, you can’t deflect this conversation by pretending you hear them coming home. There’s nobody here but you and I and the I part of this equation would very much like to keep discussing the fact that…”

“Shhhhh.”

“Don’t shush me. We need to…”

“For God’s sake Rachel, just shut up.”

Turning to grab Rachel’s shoulders, Quinn yanks her forward, covering Rachel’s tiny yelp of surprise with her mouth. Quinn’s thundering heart drowns out rational thought and her eyes slide closed for half a second, a faint part of her brain flickering with panic as Rachel stands immobile against her. Pulling back slowly, Quinn swallows a groan at the way Rachel’s bottom lip sticks to her own, the feeling of their lipstick smudged together causing her hands to flex against the soft t-shirt under her fingers.

Taking a quick breath, a whispered apology on the tip of her tongue, Quinn is unprepared for the feeling of Rachel pushing forward, a plastic hanger brushing by her ear as Rachel’s hands land under her ribs, the heat of them apparent through the thin material of Quinn’s sundress. The next kiss starts just as suddenly as the first one began and the passion where she expected uncertainty has Quinn whimpering into the kiss, her cheeks warming with embarrassment at how loud she sounds even as she pulls Rachel closer.

Rachel’s eyes are shut tight, despite the almost complete darkness of the closet, her racing thoughts seeming to manifest themselves in jolting bursts along her pulse points. The feel of Quinn’s soft lips against hers pushes all thoughts and questions aside and as Quinn tilts her head slightly, the barest hint of tongue teasing along Rachel’s top lip, Rachel experiences a moment of vertigo. Her body sways harder towards Quinn, a few loose hangers swinging frantically before falling to the floor. Trembling, Rachel parts her lips slightly, the tip of her tongue sliding against Quinn’s on a soft moan. The feeling of pleasure is so sharp that Rachel pulls back, her breath ragged as Quinn whispers her name, both of them acutely aware that their bodies are pressed close together, their chests moving in tandem with each heavy breath. Quinn’s fingers flex against her shoulders and Rachel takes a step closer, Quinn’s body thudding lightly against the back wall as Rachel rests her cheek against Quinn’s. “We’re not drunk now.”

“No, we’re not.”

The feel of Quinn’s heart pounding against her chest steals a little bit of Rachel’s breath so her voice is low as she drops her hands to Quinn’s hips, pulling back just enough so she can look Quinn in the eyes. “Quinn…”

“Yes.”

The answer to Rachel’s unspoken question is pushed from Quinn’s chest on a moan, her hands moving from Rachel’s shoulder to her cup her face, her mouth parting instantly as Rachel’s tongue slides against hers. Her stomach tightens as Rachel starts to lift Quinn’s dress, her thigh pushing against Quinn’s legs, toppling another shoe box by their feet in the process. As Rachel bunches Quinn’s dress around her waist, the sudden pressure of Rachel’s thigh between her legs jolts Quinn out of the kiss, her fingers pushing into Rachel’s hair and holding her there for a moment. “Wait.”

It takes everything in Rachel to keep her hold steady on Quinn’s waist, her thumbs barely edged under the waistband of Quinn’s underwear, the smell of Quinn’s arousal punching a fist of lust low in Rachel’s belly. Licking the taste of their kisses from her bottom lip, Rachel runs her thumbs across the soft skin of Quinn’s hipbones, trying to soothe them both as she traces her gaze across Quinn’s face. “What is it? Do you want to stop?”

“No!” Clearing her throat, Quinn smiles and softens her voice as she pulls Rachel forward into another quick kiss. “I really don’t want to stop. But I wanted to say, while I’m still kind of thinking clearly, that I do want to talk to you about this.”

“This?”

“This. Us. Everything that happened. We will talk about it. But, I don’t know how much time we have until those guys get home and I swear to God, if you don’t touch me right now…”

Rachel’s not quite sure where the bravado comes from. Maybe it’s from the needy sound of Quinn’s voice or the way Quinn’s nails haven’t stopped scratching lightly against the back of her scalp but drawing on the memory of the night that started this whole thing, Rachel pushes Quinn’s underwear down to the middle of her thighs. One of her hands grips the fabric of Quinn’s dress, keeping it around Quinn’s waist, as her other hand slips between Quinn’s legs, her mouth parting at the wetness that coats her fingertips immediately. Her touch is tentative, not because she’s unsure, but because there isn’t the buzz of alcohol clouding the way Quinn feels right now, her desire for Rachel blatantly apparent.   Rachel’s fingers press a little harder and her stomach clenches as Quinn’s hips curl towards the movement, Quinn’s grip on the back of her head almost painful as she pulls Rachel closer, their mouths brushing with every word Rachel whispers. “You’re so wet.”

Quinn can’t help but groan, Rachel managing to sound wondrous and smug all at the same time as she continues to stroke against Quinn slow enough to force her to drop her hand from Rachel’s hair, wrapping her fingers around Rachel’s wrist with authority. Pushing up on her toes, Quinn pulls Rachel’s wrist closer, both of them moaning as she finally slips inside of Quinn. Holding Rachel’s wrist still, Quinn brings her other hand down and presses her hand against the back of Rachel’s hand, grinding against the pressure as she encourages Rachel to pulse her fingers. “We don’t have much time. Rachel, please…”

The whimper that follows the entreaty is what finally snaps Rachel out of her haze, the desperate ache between her own legs forgotten momentarily as she releases Quinn’s dress, bracing her elbow next to Quinn’s head and knocking yet another hanger loose, the slide of some kind of track jacket against her skin barely registering as she kisses Quinn. Open mouthed hungry kisses, their tongues matching the pace set by Quinn’s hips, stopping only when Quinn’s head falls back against the wall, her gaze locked on Rachel. Watching Quinn’s face, Rachel lets her ride her fingers, her palm tapping wetly against Quinn’s clit with every jerky movement of Quinn’s hips. Rachel knows that she is stone cold sober but as she watches Quinn’s face bloom with pleasure, her low groan trapped behind the bottom lip pulled between her teeth, Rachel feels a buzz race through her body and her nipples tighten in response as she presses closer against Quinn’s body.

Quinn feels like Rachel is the only thing standing between her and collapsing to the floor, her orgasm winding tight through her body as she holds Rachel’s fingers still inside of her, both of them moaning into a soft kiss as Quinn’s hips eventually stop rolling. With a long exhale, Quinn pulls their hands away, reaching down to pull her underwear up as she lets her wrinkled dress fall back down to rest against her thighs. Grabbing Rachel’s hands, Quinn pulls them until Rachel can place her palms against the wall by Quinn’s ribs, forcing them to sink even further into the cocoon created by the items in the closet hanging around them.

Rachel rests her forehead against Quinn’s, flashbacks of the night in her dorm hitting them as they both look down and watch as Quinn pops the button open on Rachel’s shorts. As Quinn pulls the zipper down, Rachel swallows hard, her hips already pushing forward for contact as Quinn tries to tug down the waistband of Rachel’s shorts and underwear. Breathing heavily, Rachel can only laugh at the frustrated grunt followed by Quinn’s ‘ _I normally love the shorts you wear but why do they have to be so tight right now’_.

“I…it’s not going to take much.”

The sound that falls from Quinn’s mouth is definitely not a frustrated sound as she gives up and turns her hand, sliding against Rachel just enough that her fingertips slip against Rachel’s clit. Quinn’s forearm immediately protests the position but she tunes out that part of her brain. All she can feel are the ends of Rachel’s hair tickling her chest as Rachel keeps her cheek pressed close to Quinn’s, Rachel’s lower back muscles flexing where Quinn is holding her, and the feel of Rachel’s arousal spreading across her fingers. The relief she feels to be touching Rachel again makes her chest feel tight and the emotions she had been trying to keep at bay since last month start scratching at her thoughts. Her own pleasure is still warm in her system and the noises Rachel is making are starting to drive her crazy and despite what will probably be Brittany and Santana’s imminent arrival, Quinn is two seconds away from throwing caution to the wind and stripping Rachel naked.

The sound of Rachel’s voice pulls Quinn out of her introspection and as the words filter into Quinn’s brain, all she can do is hang on and concentrate all her attention on the little bundle of nerves beneath her fingertips. “Qui…inn, don’t stop. I’m so close and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened and this. God, your hands on me again and please…please…”

Capturing Rachel’s mouth in a rough kiss, Quinn stops the torrent of sexy words falling from Rachel’s lips, her moan vibrating against Quinn’s tongue as Rachel finally comes. Rachel’s hips press hard against Quinn’s fingers, her legs shaking slightly as Quinn slowly works her down, finally slipping her hand from inside Rachel’s underwear and closing her shorts before pull her into a hug. Keeping her lips pressed against Rachel’s temple, Quinn allows herself a small moment to just enjoy having Rachel close, all the questions and discussions that are now inevitable are pushed to the side in favor of the smile she can feel curve Rachel’s cheek as she turns her head and places a small kiss on Quinn’s jaw.

Pulling back slightly, Rachel makes out Quinn’s features in the dim light of the closet, a small smile curving her lips as she watches Rachel looking at her. Reaching behind her back, Rachel takes a hold of Quinn’s hands, both of them laughing a little self-consciously at the residual wetness on each of their fingers. Holding their joined hands between them, Rachel takes a deep breath, her mind and body and especially her heart aware of Quinn on a level she didn’t allow herself to think about when she took that quiet train ride back from Connecticut last month. She wants to say something, but the words feel heavy and too serious as they cascade from her brain to pool in her mouth. She was aware enough to know that something changed between them after her trip to visit Quinn but after what just happened, whatever it is that changed feels important enough that they should probably have this discussion when they aren’t post orgasm, hiding out in a closet and waiting to surprise Santana.

With a little sigh, Quinn runs her thumbs across the back of Rachel’s hands, swallowing a few times before going to speak. “Rachel, I…”

“Shhhh, wait. I think I hear something.”

Frowning a bit, Quinn looks at Rachel for a moment before tugging a bit on her hands in warning. “This isn’t the time to play around. I really thought I heard them before and if you’re just making fun of me now, that’s…”

“Quinn, I’m serious. Don’t you hear it?”

Pulling Rachel to her side, Quinn listens intently for a moment, releasing Rachel’s hands to lean closer to the door, turning her head to whisper to Rachel. “I think they’re opening the door.”

“Wait…what if it’s not them? What if someone is about to break in and rob them? I thought Brittany said they’d be back by 3:00pm but it’s probably already way past that and our phones are in here and Brittany would have called or texted or something if they were running late and just getting back now. I don’t think it’s them. Quinn, we have to…”

They both freeze as they hear a floorboard creak by the closet door, stepping back from the door as a shadow slinks across the light under the door. As the door handle rattles for a briefest moment, Quinn instinctively puts her arm out to put herself between the door and Rachel’s body.

Suddenly, four screams ring out as the closet door is ripped open, Santana holding a baseball bat at the ready as Brittany clutches a frying pan in her hand. Four pairs of wide-eyed stares chase each other before Quinn clears her throat, quickly dropping her arm from in front of Rachel as they both shuffle out from between a pair of winter jackets. “Ummm… surprise? What’s with the bat?”

“We thought we were being robbed. Why didn’t you say anything when you heard the front door open?”

Bending down to pick up the fallen hangers and track jacket, Rachel sweeps them in Brittany and Santana’s direction, her voice still holding enough of a post-sex rasp to have Quinn glancing back, their eyes connecting hotly for a second before Rachel gestures to the front door. “We thought you were the robbers.”

As Rachel puts the hangers back into place, she and Quinn step out from inside the closet, Quinn bending down to pick up both their purses before shutting the door and following the other three into the living area. Santana places the bat next to the bed before straightening up quickly at Brittany’s tentative question. “What were you guys doing in the closet?”

Snorting, Santana smirks at Quinn’s choked sound, taking the frying pan from Brittany as she heads into the kitchen, looking over her shoulder to take in Quinn’s obvious embarrassment. “Britt, there aren’t enough words…”

“Shut it, Santana.” Quinn’s bites out the words which have no effect on Santana as she sticks her tongue out at Quinn from behind Brittany’s back.

Drawing attention away from Quinn, Rachel tugs a little on her shorts, grateful as Brittany turns around to grab the glass of water that Santana is handing her. “Well, Britt, you already knew we were coming here to surprise Santana. Quinn thought it would be more authentic if we hid in the closet.”

“I knew giving you a spare key was a mistake, Berry.”

Ignoring Santana’s jibe, Rachel steps into the kitchen, making herself at home and pouring a glass of water from the Brita pitcher that Santana left on the counter. Quinn still hasn’t moved and Rachel meets her eyes, the promise she sees in them causing her to smile behind the rim of her glass.

“San, be nice. Quinn came all the way out here to surprise you and Rachel was nice enough to bring her over and wait with her. In the closet.”

Quinn can see the wheels turning in Santana’s head as she wraps her arm around Brittany’s waist and smirks at Quinn so with a murmured ‘ _excuse me’_ , she heads past them towards the bathroom, ignoring the look she can see Santana giving her. Quinn lets her shoulder brush lightly against Rachel as she walks past her and the way Rachel turns a bit to keep the contact a little bit longer eases a bit of the tension Santana’s look was giving her. She’s happy to be here now to see Brittany and Santana, despite the grilling she knows Santana is going to subject her to later, but it’s the thought of finally getting to talk to Rachel about what’s going on between them that really lets her take her first easy breath.

Brittany keeps looking between Quinn and Rachel and Quinn can’t shut the bathroom door fast enough as Brittany’s question is followed by Santana’s hysterical laughter. “Wait…were you guys wrestling in there while you were hiding?”


End file.
